To Be Original
by SubZeroChimera
Summary: Oneshot, stand-alone from other fics, rated M for language & metaphorical references. The God of Destruction's musings concerning Zero. What it means to be original may differ from one to another, but Omega has an explanation for his philosophy.


What does it mean to be the original?

Zero... and X...

That damnable X...

You said it was the heart.

What a farce!

Let me tell you...

Zero... you poor, misguided little spawn of my programming.

Look at humans. Look at them, the pathetic things that they are. They would agree with you, that this 'heart' of theirs, of yours, is all that matters. Perhaps to them it does.

When a biological being is born, lives, and dies, it can only rely on its 'heart', its mind, to bring it success. Of course the humans, and you who holds them so dearly, would see that it is important. But really, even if it is their mind that brings them success, it is their body that lets them carry it out! And it is their bodies that ensure the continuation of the species!

Without their bodies, and the hormones and instincts that come with them, humans would have died off long ago.

But of course, they'd have died off long ago if they didn't have their 'hearts' too, one might argue.

A 'heart' is what sets one apart from the rest! It is what makes a human original, unique, right?

Perhaps.

But it is not the heart that counts.

Think of this, Zero. I have a scenario for you.

A human, old and weak, sits in a hospitable bed. They are the same person they've been all their life, right?

Even though their mind has rotted, their brain all but ceased functioning, even though they've forgotten who they are and can't even go to the bathroom without help, they are still the same person, right? No member of that person's family would argue that. It's just a simple but sad side-effect of age. Could happen to any human.

They're the same person. And yet, their heart has been forever lost to time.

So see? The heart does not count.

Only the body.

I am the original, and you are but a former heart of mine.

Ah, but then you'd argue again! That's an entirely unrealistic scenario, to compare an old living corpse with Alzheimer's to a powerful reploid.

But is it?

Another human could be sitting in a bed right next to him, a youth. That youth, unfortunately, was hit in the head rather severely. It's still the same human, of course. But then, they can't remember anything. Perhaps they go on to become 'a new person' despite this. Perhaps they try some sort of risky procedure to try and regain their memory. It fails, and they are left a 'vegetable' to the despair of their family.

Ah, but they are still the same person. Their DNA, their unique code of life, is still the same, the original.

So see, the body counts, not the mind.

Not the heart.

Oh dear, I went and used a human as another example, didn't I? Dear me, perhaps I am a little old myself! But, still the original.

No matter what, Zero, the body is what matters, not the heart.

Another example, perhaps? One that actually makes sense when concerning a reploid?

Zero... you should know this well. We reploids are tools, advanced weapons or objects, designed for a purpose. Whether or not that purpose in life is to go find our own destiny, well, that doesn't matter. In reality, Zero, we are nothing but advanced computers.

And for us, our 'hearts' are nothing but our programming.

Look at it this way. A human owns a computer, but something has gone wrong with it. Perhaps it was a virus? They lost all their data, but after deleting everything on the hard-drive, all they have to do is reprogram it.

What if you owned such a computer? What if you did that? It would still be the same computer to you, wouldn't it?

But, if the computer itself was damaged, and you had to replace every part... well, that wouldn't be the same computer, would it? It might, for the owner, be easier just to get a new one. Even if they copied the programming and data from the original and put it onto the new one... well, it's just data. It's just programming. It's not the actual computer.

Zero, as reploids, our 'heart' is our core program, our original personality mixed with our memories. This is our 'heart', our soul. Our memories, now that's the important bit, isn't it? Two or more reploids could have had the same core program, but be completely different people, with different 'hearts', because of their memories.

But, if you remove that 'heart', we're still the same reploid, just with memory loss.

Oh ho ho... memory loss. You know all about that, don't you?

So you see, Zero... you are not the original. It almost pains me to see a copy of mine, one who was derived from me, so wracked with false ideals. You gullible fool, letting others tell you what you should believe.

Ciel woke you up, dismissing your memories, told you to fight for her... and you did.

X came, that despicable X, twisting you to his beliefs as he'd always done and will always do.

It pains me, to see something born from my own flesh and data, so innocent and naive, be so deluded by those who, quite simply, found you first. Had anyone else found you, you would have followed them instead, I suppose.

It hurts, Zero. Because you were born from me.

Almost like a son, and yet, a copy. Almost like a brother, and yet, something much more intimate.

And all you ever wanted to know, ever wanted for yourself, was to know what you are. What you were.

And yet, upon the day of the revelation, when Weil, quite admittedly (damn the man), thrust you cruelly upon the truth, you hesitated. You finally knew what you were.

But X, that hated X, took the opportunity. And so did that whore, Ciel.

You stood there, shocked, staring, at your body. At what you were supposed to be.

You could have dropped your sword then and there. The light was right before you, you could have embraced it. Even if Weil had wanted you dead, I didn't. You had no memory of what transpired during the Elf Wars, you were not the same Zero ravaged by X's laughable morals. How could I hold that against you?

You were born from me, and if you'd so asked upon that day, you could have returned. I'm sure Weil would have been happy to have the two of us become one again.

Or even, perhaps, have stayed two. Similar beings, brothers, in both body and mind. I actually like the sound of that. Being by oneself can be so lonely...

But, of course, that's not how it was. Ciel, X... the two impregnated your mind with their thoughtless, callous beliefs.

The 'heart' is what counts.

How pitiful.

For ones so self-important on 'justice', they certainly didn't mind egging you on to kill me... kill yourself. And then the others showed up, X's demonic spawn.

They teamed up on me, using you to do their dirty work, to strike the final blow.

'Heroes' they're called, even to this day.

Hah! Some heroes!

I'm not dead like you thought, Zero. I'm merely sealed, and one day I will break free.

Although, Zero... your state does truly rend my heart asunder. Well, nearly. Not really. You had your chance, and you were too fool to take back what was yours.

There's no more room in my heart for you, bastard child. You live what you've learned, and you learned from the worst. You gave up your life's purpose for the ideals of others.

You screwed yourself. The others, especially X, raped whatever chance you had at your own morals and seeded you with their hollow ones instead. And you just took it like the bitch you were.

All this talk about 'heart'...

Zero, just because I am sealed away doesn't mean that I don't know what's going on.

Biometal, right? Biometal is what you are now. A stupid, worthless parasite, reliant on a host to have any sort of power of your own.

Biometal Model Z.

Oh, you lot are just the _pride_ of this worthless new world order. It's biometal this, biometal that, even that mindless, animated corpse of Weil is valued as a god.

Biometal, biometal, biometal! They all squeal that sickening phrase, that hopeless prayer!

Hmph. I am the original.

_I _am the messia!

If those biometals be the works of a god... Then I am a_ true_ god, the God of Destruction!

All this talk of the 'heart', Zero...

The data, the memories, the soul...

Zero, you thought you'd proved X's point by slaying me. You thought you'd shown the world that the heart counted above all.

And yet, here I am. I am alive, I live on.

And so do you. Or, perhaps, you don't.

You have no memories, you have a fake soul... you're a copy.

A copy of a copy.

All your talk of this 'heart'...

What a farce!

You live with no memories, and the tattered fragments of your soul no longer exist in the mortal plane.

How could the 'heart' matter...

How?

How could the heart have been so important...

When you so willingly forgot yours?

Your heart no longer exists.

But I do.

I, Zero, am the original.

I am the messia.


End file.
